The Fixer
by Anubis Enfield
Summary: I'm a fixer. That's what I do and it's what I'm good at. Then this man came in to get his watch fixed, only for a different man to return. "B-But you're not... You're not him. This is Mr. Smith's watch."/"I regenerated! Same person, different looks and personality."/"What?"
1. Chapter 1

**Bought a neat pocket watch at a convention, which sparked up an interest in what the Doctor would do upon meeting someone just as strange as him, who liked to take things apart.**

* * *

"Oi, Jack! Are you done yet?!"

I rolled myself out from under the car with a grin, a bit of grease smudged on my cheek. "Yup! Just finished replacing the drive-shaft and had to tweak the axle a bit before—"

Mitch, my boss of 42 with short graying black hair waved his hand about with a groan. "Ah, ah, ah. I don't want to hear any more of your technical jargon. Just tell me if it's done or not."

I pouted slightly, upset that I wasn't being allowed to explain what I'd done. "Yeah, it's done."

"Good. That was the last one for the day, so hurry up and scram. I've got paperwork to file."

I rolled my eyes, sat up and wiped some more grease from off my hands with a rag, before getting up and stretching my lanky 5'7" frame. Once I'd gotten out some kinks in my shoulders, I clocked out for the day, grabbed my army green knapsack, and bounded off towards an alley in the hopes that the trash truck hadn't come by yet. I quickly checked the fat leather bound watch on my wrist and tapped at the face with a frown. _Come on, I wound you this morning! Gah, I hope this is the right time._ Thankfully, it was and I rounded the corner with a bright grin upon seeing no trash truck just yet. The grin soon feel off my face though, because a large blue police box sat in the middle of the alley, leaving barely enough room on either side to get past it.

"Now who the heck parks some big ol' police box in the middle of my favorite dumping grounds?" I complained, heading towards it and opening the box with the phone and picking it up. "Not even a dial tone. What kind of silly telephone box are you?" I questioned out loud, before hanging the useless phone up and looking the box up and down.

It was old, definitely and not just because police boxes hadn't been around in a long while, but the blue paint on the box was chipped in some places. It looked relatively well taken care of though, and as much as I would've liked to look at it a bit more, I was on a schedule.

"Agh! I don't have time for this!"

I quickly scrambled to the side of the phone box and squeezed myself past it, before grinning at the little treasure trove behind it.

"Ah-ha! You've done it now, Jackie Whyte! Let the dumpster diving begin!" I beamed, before hurrying to climb into said dumpster in search of the parts I needed.

That's right. I said parts. I'm a sort of... tinkerer fixer-upper kind of person. Give me a watch, a toy, a car, a robot or whatever and I'll take it apart, figure out how it works, and fix it right as rain. This particular dumpster I was searching through was a treasure trove of parts, it being nestled between a number of repair shops, auto shops, a smithy, wood working shop, _and_ a rather picky thrift store that threw out whatever the manager deemed 'unsaleable to the public'. All in all, I found some pretty good finds in here. I once found a mini-TV that I fixed up and was able to watch Korean soap operas on (I still don't know how it picked up on that signal, but it did and I must say, they're pretty good). That being said, I had about half an hour before I needed to head to my next job and about fifteen minutes before the trash truck drops by, so I needed to move fast.

Today was a pretty good day too. I found a trashed, busted up Hublot watch that I could pick for parts since it looked impossible to fix anyway. _And possibly a knock off too._ But I'd also found some small metal wheels, gears, and a torn up stuffed giraffe with a bow tie. I brushed the dirt off it with a small smile.

"Now who would throw you away? You just need a little touch up."

I heard this strange noise then, like a mechanical wheezing and I rolled my eyes, peering over the edge of the trash can and prepared my most stern I'm-not-scolding-you-from-a-dumpster face.

"Oi, don't you know you're not supposed to drive something with the... breaks still... on?"

Oddly enough, there was no one there. Better yet, the blue police box had just up and disappeared. And I don't mean it moved or somebody took it, because I would've heard them backing a truck up to take it. No, I mean it was gone. Like it hadn't even been there. And I hung my arm over the side of the dumpster with a confused expression, resting my chin on my other arm.

"Huh, maybe I've finally lost it."

I caught sight of my watch then and panicked.

"Ah! I'm going to be late!"

I quickly scrambled out of the dumpster, very nearly falling on my face in the process, before bolting down the street with my knapsack of parts bouncing over my shoulder. I ran all the way to my flat and rushed up the stairs as I pulled my key out and unlocked the door. In a rush, I hurried off to the bathroom and quickly showered before changing into some jeans, a white dress shirt, and a grey vest. Once I was more appropriately dressed for my second job, I grabbed my knapsack and slung it over my shoulder before grabbing my tool belt and hooking it securely around my waist and taking off once more. I ran into the old time watch and toy repair shop—the bell on top of the door clanging loudly to signal my entrance—and I called out to the seventy-eight year old owner who was probably working in the back room.

"Mr. Stanford! I'm sorry I'm late! I was looking for parts and—"

"Stop, stop, stop. You're far too loud. I'm not hard of hearing you know." The elderly man complained, coming out of the room with his usual scowl in place as I rubbed the back of my neck with a nervous smile.

"Right. Sorry."

"And for being late, I'm adding an extra job for you to do."

I immediately slumped as I dropped my knapsack behind the counter. "Aw, really? How many do I have now?"

"Three. And it'll be four if you keep complaining."

I sighed. "Yes, sir."

"That's better." He said, standing straighter and practically preening himself as he grabbed the projects I was to work on and brought them over to the counter I was now seated behind. "You have this coo-coo clock that won't wind up—"

 _Probably a gear problem. Might or might not need replacement parts. Need inside look to be sure. Difficulty level around 3._ I mused, as he set down the wooden coo-coo clock and then moved onto the next one.

"—this pocket watch that isn't ticking—"

 _Another gear problem. Possible a resonance issue too. Though perhaps it's something more complicated. Inside look needed. Replacement parts possible. Difficulty level around 6._ He then moved over to a large grandfather clock up against the wall nearby.

"—and this is your punishment. It ticks, it tells time, but never chimes and the pendulum doesn't sway like it should."

 _Harder. Definitely a tricky one. Multiple possible sources. Inside look definite. Difficulty level around 8._ I winced then, having received a hard whack to the head, courtesy of Mr. Stanford.

"Ow!"

"No day dreaming." He scolded, waving the book he'd hit me with threateningly. "That pocket watch is to be picked up tomorrow morning and the others later that day."

He headed to the back room and I pouted as I rubbed my head and grumbled to myself.

"I wasn't daydreaming, old man."

"I heard that!" He called out and I jumped, startled by his good hearing, before setting to work.

The pocket watch would be second for me to do, since those were usually the hardest in comparison to the wooden clocks, despite the grandfather clock probably needing more time on it. I had less time to get the pocket watch done, after all, so it would have to be next once I finished the coo-coo clock. And, after a decent number hours and a frustrating gear that was bent at an angle, the coo-coo clock was finished and I polished it before setting it aside. The multitude of clocks around us chimed one in the morning and I honestly wanted to go home and sleep myself, but I'd been the one to put off the pocket watch until now and knew that it was my own doing that led me to the all-nighter I was about to pull off... again. I yawned and stretched as I heard Mr. Stanford packing up.

"Leaving already?"

He nodded. "Not as young as I used to be. I need my sleep, unlike some people."

"Hey, I sleep... sometimes." I chuckled slightly and he rolled his eyes.

"I'll leave you to close up then. You can open up in the morning?"

"Sure can. It's the weekend, right? I only work the auto shop on weekdays. 8am sharp, right?"

He nodded, dropping the keys off at the counter. "Yeah. I won't be in until 10 though. I have a meeting."

I raised a brow. "You mean your Saturday morning BINGO game with Max at the retirement home?"

He stopped at the door, looking over his shoulder at me slightly. "How did you know that?"

"Vince told me." I smiled, gesturing to the cash register I'd named as Mr. Stanford waved a hand.

"Never mind. I should know better than asking _you_ questions. I either get outrageous answers, a trivia question, or some rambling big-worded nonsense."

"Love you too, Mr. Stanford." I chirped as he scoffed and headed out, leaving me alone with the clocks.

And once I'd gone around and set them all to go off at 8am, I plopped back down and looked at the pocket watch before me, my thumb tracing over the circular designs on the front. _Seems sort of sci-fi, but it's definitely a nice design._ Shaking my head out of my thoughts, began my work and pried off the backing before taking the watch apart and trying to figure out what exactly had gone wrong with it to stop it ticking.

* * *

Dozens of alarm clocks and coo-coo clocks went off at once and I jumped, bolting up from my seat before remembering where I was and begrudgingly getting up and wandering around to shut up the clocks. I then unlocked the front door and changed the sign to 'open', before collapsing back on the stool behind the counter with a sigh. Despite my happy-go-lucky personality, I was _not_ a morning person and I knew the banana from my knapsack would not wake me up enough to work on the grandfather clock. I'd worked all night to fix the pocket watch—some of the pieces seeming a little strange for a pocket watch—along with patching up the giraffe from the dumpster and cleaning it up a bit; allowing it to sit beside the cash register for now. I'd apparently fallen asleep though, maybe an hour ago maybe less, and I knew I'd need some sort of sustenance to keep myself going so I got up grabbed my wallet and the keys, and put up a small sign that said I'd be back in five minutes before heading down the street to a café.

One coffee and a bag of doughnut holes later, and I was back in the shop half inside the grandfather clock; the doughnut hole bag on the ground within arm's reach. What can I say? I'm great at multitasking. When I'm dealing with a rather difficult problem though, I tend to forget my surroundings a bit and turn all my focus to what I'm doing. Which would explain why I banged my head rather harshly on the inside of the grandfather clock when someone spoke behind me.

"Um, excuse me?"

"Wah!"

The loud thud from my head hitting the clock seemed to echo as I cradled said body part in my hands while crouching on the floor; the person who called out immediately panicking.

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to startle you like that. I thought you heard the bell chime when I came in."

I waved the man off as I got up—grabbing my doughnut bag from off the floor—and moved behind the counter in search of the ice packs in the hidden mini-fridge. I tended to get hurt a lot here, unfortunately.

"No, no. It's fine. I tend to get a little _too_ focused in what I'm doing. Perhaps that'll teach me not to." I joked, finding what I was looking for as I rolled my eyes. "Though it didn't teach me much the first dozen times I hit my head, but thirteenth time's the charm, right?"

I brought the ice pack to my head with a smile, a bit more perky after my breakfast.

"So pick up or purchase?" I asked the man.

"Pick up, actually. I dropped off my pocket watch yesterday? Though, uh, you're not the one I gave it too. It was a Mr. Stanford, I think."

I nodded, reaching under the counter for the book that Mr. Stanford put all of the names of people who dropped off their things and when they picked them up and such.

"Yeah, he's at a meeting. I'm his... assistant, I guess. I fix up some things when he's busy. It's kind of my thing." I smiled, flipping through the pages to yesterday's log. "You're Mr. Smith, right? I need to see an ID before I can give you back your watch. Mr. Stanford is a bit stiff on the whole procedure thing. Have to make sure I'm not giving a million dollar watch to someone who's not who they say they are."

"Right, course." Mr. Smith said as I finally looked up and got a good look at him, now that I wasn't wincing in pain or half inside a clock.

I immediately wished I didn't though, because the guy was _quite_ a looker. He was rather tall and lanky, like Mr. Stanford had said, but had this messy look about him. Like a mad scientist sort of vibe, and I couldn't help but stare as he dug through his pockets for his ID. _Wow... Between his hair and his eyes, I don't really know where I should look._

"Ah-ha! There it is." He pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. "My ID."

I took one look at it though and raised a brow. "Um, sir?" I pointed to the wallet in suspicion. "That's a blank piece of paper."

He blinked, looking rather surprised and looked back at his wallet before tucking it away. "So it is. Have you ever had any psychic training?"

I was getting more and more confused by the moment. "Um, no. Not that I know of. But I honestly can't give you the watch until I have seen an ID, sir."

"Ah, well, there's the problem." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I seemed to have misplace it. Is there any other way I could get my watch back? It's rather important."

I knew what it was like having no way of getting back something important and really did want to help the guy, but I needed to follow the rule Mr. Stanford had in place too. I couldn't just give this man the watch should he _not_ be the Mr. Smith who dropped it off.

"Look, I can't give it to you without proof that you were the one who dropped it off. So you need to either find your ID, or I _guess_ you could come back when Mr. Stanford returns from his meeting. He was the one who took it from you, so he should recognize you and allow me to give it back."

The man grinned. "Perfect! I'll stick around until then."

I gave him a disbelieving look as he started roaming around the shop.

"Stick around? He, uh, won't be back for another hour and a half. You'd be better off getting a coffee or something and coming back."

The man shrugged. "Eh, I'm not a coffee person. Or tea, really. I don't mind waiting."

I couldn't exactly force him to leave, so I reluctantly gave in and allowed him to wander the shop as I found something else to occupy my time with. Namely, fixing that grandfather clock. I believed to of found the problem just before the supposed Mr. Smith had came in and nearly had it done when he spoke up once more.

"Did _you_ fix this?"

I poked my head out and looked at the giraffe he was now holding and nodded, poking my head back into the clock.

"Yup. There's this... place I go to look for parts and things nearby and I found him there. He was pretty beat up, but like I said before fixing's my thing. Coo-coo clocks, pocket watches, cars, toys, whatever. I've always had a knack for it."

"And what did you say your name was?" He asked, setting the giraffe down.

"Jackie Whyte. Or Jack, is fine."

"Was it you or Mr. Stanford who fixed my watch?"

I waved my hand out the opening of the grandfather clock. "That was me. And I have to say, you've got some strange things in there. Not the usual gears I normally see. It's custom made, I'm guessing."

"Something like that." He said, and I poked my head out to give him a stern frown.

"And if it's so important to you, you should know better than to be eating jam right next to it."

"W-What?" He questioned, looking shocked and confused as I nodded and went back into the clock again.

"Yeah. That's why it wasn't ticking. There was some weird purplish red jelly stuff stuck to some of the gears. They were sticking to each other and couldn't turn like normal. You should take better care of your watches, _Mr. Smith_."

"R-Right."

I grinned then, pulling myself out of the grandfather clock and digging through my pockets for it's windup key. "And..." I wound it up and reached in to give the pendulum a tap. "...that should do it."

The clock ticked for a few seconds before the hour hand moved to the twelve at the top and the clock chimed proudly for the hour of twelve noon. Sure, it wasn't even 9:30 yet, but I fixed it. That's what mattered. The time could be set later.

"Fixed a client's clock?" Mr. Smith asked and I nodded at him, practically glowing with accomplishment.

"Yup! It might have been my punishment for being late yesterday, but I love a good challenge. The coo-coo clock I had earlier was _way_ too easy. One of the gears was bent and so I just had to replace it with some gears from this broken watch I found in the dumpster off—" I quickly cut myself off, embarrassed that I'd just told the man I'd been dumpster diving. "That I, um, found."

He raised a brow. "You go _dumpster diving_ for parts?"

Red quickly traveled up my cheeks. "W-W-Well you would too if you were a bit tight on money, work two jobs, and have a problem with... arguing about prices..."

He snorted and I cleared my throat awkwardly when I was saved by the bell, literally.

"Ah! Hello, are you here for pick up or are you looking to purchase something?" I greeted, trying to force the blush in my cheeks down as an older woman walked in.

"Oh, I'm here to pick up my clock, dear."

"Oh, okay. Come over here so I can check the logs and I'll need an ID, please."

"Of course." She smiled and I went through the logs before matching the name up to her ID and carefully picking up the coo-coo clock.

I turned the hands so they were both pointing at twelve and demonstrated the clock chiming for her.

"Oh, it's practically new! How much do I owe you?" She asked, pulling out a wallet from her purse and I grabbed a calculator and began putting in the numbers.

"It'll be five for the replacement gear, five for the polish and touching up, and fifteen for the time spent. So your total is twenty-five pounds, ma'am."

She nodded and handed me the amount as I gestured to the clock.

"Do you want me to put it in a box for your trip back?"

"If you could." She said and I nodded before carefully wrapping it in bubble wrap and tucking it away in a box.

Once the box was tied shut with some twine, I offered to carry it to her car—or cab, as it were—and sent her on her way before returning and jumping upon seeing Mr. Smith still there. _I'd forgotten he was here. Oh my God, and he knows I dumpster dive for parts! Gah! How stupid can I be?! That's so embarrassing!_ I cleared my throat awkwardly and moved back behind the counter, fiddling with the clunky watch on my wrist and silently questioning if I should attempt to figure out why it was running slower than usual. I wasn't going to, but then I kept staring at it and the second hand was moving just _way_ too slow, so I groaned and unhooked the brown leather strap and set it on the counter. Grumbling complaints under my breath, I pulled out my tiny screwdriver and began unscrewing the back of the watch, picking apart the contraption as I tried to figure out what it's problem was.

"Stupid watch. I swear you're sassier than that punk cat down the block who sits in the middle of the sidewalk and won't let me pass. And ten pounds says it's the _same_ cat who's pooping in my flower pots." I suddenly had a thought then and grinned devilishly. "Ooh, what if I grow a cactus next time? Or poison ivy? That'll keep the cat from pooping in my plants."

"That's not very nice."

"Well, the cat shouldn't be using my potted plants as a toi… let…" I trailed off when I realized that it wasn't my _watch_ talking, but Mr. Smith; who'd moved closer to watch me work at the counter.

 _Where he found that extra stool, I'll never know._ I shook my head from my thoughts and let out a nervous chuckle.

"Sorry."

He just grinned. "It's fine." He then gestured to my watch. "Fixing another one?"

I slowly nodded, turning my eyes back to what I was doing. "Yeah, sort of. This one's mine. Made it from scraps of other watches, which is probably why it's only working at half the speed it should be." I frowned slightly, spotting the problem. "Though it looks like I either need a new gear or need to find a different set up with the ones I have."

I put the screwdriver in my mouth to hold it as I dug through my pockets for what I needed. I finally found it and used the magnetic tweezers I'd made to pull out the gear in question, setting it aside and I removed the screwdriver from my mouth.

"The gear's too big and was slowing everything down. I wonder if I..."

I spun around and dug through my knapsack before pulling out a small pouch. I dumped the pouch onto the counter away from the watch—and directly in front of Mr. Smith—and began searching through the small gears and busted watches for a gear that would work.

"No. Nope. That won't work. Perhaps..."

I grabbed the Hublot watch I'd found yesterday and used my screwdriver to open it up as Mr. Smith began waving his hands about in a panic.

"Wait, wait, wait! What are you doing?! Do you know what kind of watch you're taking apart?!"

I stopped and raised a brow at him. "I work at a watch repair shop. Of course I know."

I went right back to work and took off the back, but he wasn't finished.

"But that watch is worth thousands! Hundreds of thousands even!"

"Actually, it's worth zero." I argued with him. "It's missing almost _half_ of the gears that used to be in it and a good number of the remaining gears are in such poor condition that it'd almost be cheaper to get a new watch. Not to mention the cracked face is near impossible to fix. So why not use it for parts that you would have to buy otherwise?"

He sat there with his mouth hanging open and I pointed at him with my screwdriver.

"You're gonna catch flies."

His mouth snapped shut and I couldn't help the small smile that made it's way onto my face before I found the gear I was looking for and tried it in my watch.

"Oh, thank God, it fits." I let out a sigh of relief and began rearranging the gears back inside the watch before closing it up and pulling the key I had on a chain around my neck, out to wind it up.

Thankfully, the watch began working at it's normal pace again and I felt relief flood through me as I put it back on my wrist and cleaned up my mess.

"You really like working on watches, don't you?" Mr. Smith asked and I nodded.

"I like to figure out how things work. Taking them apart is a good way to figure that—" I cut myself off as I felt a chill go up my spine and my whole body was on immediate alert.

 _Something's wrong. I don't know what it is, but there's something wrong. Where? Where is it? Has something been moved?_ I looked around the shop, but everything looked to be where it should be. _Then what? The sound... Something's wrong with the sound._ I looked around once more, standing up from my stool and moving out from behind the counter, giving everything in the shop a careful look over. _There's twenty-seven clocks, thirty-two toys—No. There's thirty-three, if you count the giraffe. And seventeen miscellaneous other items. That's seventy-seven objects all together. And forty-eight of those make noise._ My eyes narrowed, feeling that I was nearly catching on to whatever was bothering me. _Twenty-eight making ticking noises. Ten making various buzzing or mechanical clicking noises. Four sing. And six play various other melodies. But this doesn't sound like singing or music or mechanical. That leaves twenty-eight. Twenty-eight ticking objects. Twenty-seven of which are clocks._

I walked over to the one toy that 'ticked' and found it off, narrowing down my list even further as I brushed a finger over it; not hearing Mr. Smith asking if everything was alright as he got up and followed me around. _Twenty-seven clocks. Why is that bothering me? Something's wrong with the sound._

"Something's wrong with the sound." I muttered, before a hand landed on my shoulder, making me jump as I turned to Mr. Smith.

"What do you mean? What's wrong with the sound?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but the bell over the door chimed and Mr. Stanford walked in, taking off his straw hat and hanging it on a coat rack by the door before giving the two of us a look.

"What are you doing standing around, Jack? Why are you not giving Mr. Smith back his watch yet?"

"A-Ah, well he didn't have his ID and you said I'm not allowed to—"

Mr. Stanford groaned and waved his hand about. "Oh, never mind that. Just give the man his watch. He's probably got things to do."

"Right. Course." I muttered, eyeing the shelves of clocks I was in front of momentarily before heading behind the counter and taking out Mr. Smith's pocket watch from an under-shelf before setting it on the table. "Would you like a box for it, Mr. Smith?"

"No, that's alright. How much?"

I didn't bother with the calculator this time, just rattling off the numbers in my head. "Five for the gear cleaning, five for the polishing, and twenty-five for the time needed. Thirty-five pounds total."

"Take ten off that for making him wait, Jack." Mr. Stanford called from the back room and I bobbed my head.

"Sorry, twenty-five pound then."

Mr. Smith set down fifty pounds though and my eyes widened.

"T-That's way too—"

"Sh." He shushed, putting a finger to his mouth with a wink. "It's for keeping me entertained while I waited. And I'll take the giraffe too, if you don't mind."

I shook my hands. "N-No. No. Go for it."

"I can hear you!" Mr. Stanford called out and I winced.

"Geeze, he's got good hearing for an old guy."

Mr. Smith chuckled and gave me a wave before he headed out and Mr. Stanford came in from the back room and gave me a stern look.

"I'm seventy-eight. I'm not deaf. So stop calling me old or I'll dock your pay."

"Right. My bad, Mr. Stanford." I chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Oh, you bet it'll be your bad. Especially if you're short on your bills." He said, turning to head back as I whined after him.

"Oh, don't say that! I _need_ to pay my bills on time!"


	2. Chapter 2

I yawned tiredly as I left the auto shop and headed for my flat to change and shower before my other job. I hadn't been sleeping well lately, for some reason, though I was beginning to believe that it had something to do with whatever was bugging me in the watch shop. But no matter what I did, everything seemed normal, and I just couldn't figure it out. I even checked each clock specifically for any issues with their sounds, but nothing. That, and I'd been having these weird dreams too. There was some clock android robot or something that would show up while I was working in the watch shop and it would do something weird to my head before disappearing. And more recently, I had dreams that it was showing up at my flat and I'd wake up in a panic, only for nothing to be there. It's gotten worse since I could hardly get to sleep to begin with, and I'd begun staying at the shop as long as I could. The only problem there was that I'd focus on the sounds and then I'd start thinking about how something was wrong and the whole cycle would start over.

I would get through it this weekend though, because one of the guys down at the auto shop sold me his iPod and some headphones for cheap and I'd have at least some time to not worry about all of this. _Though I'm overdue on my bills and the landlord won't hold off for much longer before shutting off my water._ Or so I said, because I ended up taking a cold shower. Seemed the landlord was giving me my final warning by shutting the hot water off, and I sighed quietly as I changed before heading back out. _Add that to the headaches I've been getting lately, and I don't know how things could get worse._

"Mr. Stanford? What am I fixing today?" I called out, ignoring how the chime over the door aggravated my already pounding headache.

"Ah! Jack! Nice to see you again."

I blinked and realized that the man smiling before me looked an awful lot like the giraffe I picked up a week ago.

"Um, hello. Haven't met actually, but hi." I said, moving around him and his two companions to the counter. "Are you here for pick up or purchase, sir?"

"Oh! Dropping off, actually! I was hoping you could fix my pocket watch again."

"Right. Hold on a moment." I said, moving towards the door to the back room and poking my head in to see Mr. Stanford working on another clock. "Mr. Stanford, there's someone here looking to get their pocket watch fixed? He says he knows me, but maybe he means you?"

Mr. Stanford didn't miss a beat. "What's he look like?"

"Um..." I peeked out again at the man talking with the red-head and guy he came with. "Brown floppy hair, looks like a history teacher with the suspenders and bow tie. Has a tweed jacket, green eyes, kind of childish?" I poked my head back in. "Anyone you know?"

"No." He grumbled. "Now go service them. You don't need me around to show you how to look at a watch."

"Alright, alright." I said with a roll of my eyes, shutting the door behind me as I muttered under my breath. "Cranky old man."

"I heard that!" He called out from inside, making the trio turn to me as I plastered on a smile and headed back to the counter.

"Heh, um, never mind him. I'd be more than happy to help you with your watch, sir."

"Great!" He chirped, digging through his pockets in an oddly familiar fashion as his red-headed friend wandered over to the counter.

"So, what do you do here, exactly?"

I blinked, not expecting the Scottish accent. "Oh, well, I fix things. I mean, Mr. Stanford—my boss—does most of the fixing, but I do some as well. Toys and clocks mostly, but I can do a bit of everything. Computers, microwaves, toys, clocks, cars, phones, whatever you need, really."

"Really?" She asked, looking a little surprised and I nodded.

"Yeah. Do you need something fixed, ma'am?"

She suddenly pointed a finger at me sternly. "Don't call me ma'am." She then smiled though. "I'm Amy. Amy Pond and this knucklehead behind me is Rory, my husband."

Rory poked out from behind her with a small wave. "Hello."

"I'm Jackie Whyte. Just Jack is fine. Hello." I waved a little back.

"Good, now you see, my phone's been acting all weird and bonehead over there won't let me take it in to get it fixed because he thinks he's clever and can figure it out." Amy said, pointing over at the man still digging through his pockets. "Yet here he is, bringing in his pocket watch. So, you think you can help me?"

"Sure. What's the problem?" I asked, taking the cell phone from her.

"Oh, well it'll turn on, but the buttons keep sticking and it'll pop up the messaging and stuff when I don't want it to."

I nodded and tried the phone, seeing her problem and pulling out my tiny screwdriver.

"Is it alright if I..." I gestured to the phone and she waved her hands.

"Oh no. Go ahead."

So I opened up the back of the phone and removed the battery before opening it further and pulling out some of the smaller components as I reached under the counter for q-tips and rubbing alcohol. As I cleaned up the pieces individually, I noticed that some of the q-tips were turning _green_ of all things. _Puzzling._

"Have you dropped your phone into anything sticky or wet? Or spilled something on it?"

"N-No. Course not." She said, though I could tell it was I lie.

I stayed quiet about it though and finished cleaning the phone before reassembling it and handing it back to her.

"Here. Try it now."

She did and her eyes went wide. "You did it! Oh my God, you fixed it!"

"Wasn't too hard. The buttons were sticking and causing the extra screens to pop up. It just needed some deep cleaning, though I don't recommend doing it yourself because putting everything back in the right place is harder than it looks with phones. That, and I suggest keeping it away from sticky _green_ stuff next time."

She flushed a bit, obviously caught, but I just smiled before she spoke again.

"Oh! How much does that cost?"

"Five pounds is the usual rate for—" I cut myself off with a cringe as my headache flared, bringing a hand to my head as she gave me a worried look.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. Headache." I said, forcing a smile on my face "It's been a bit of a rough week for me. And five pounds is fine."

She nodded and gave me the money just as the man shouted.

"Ah-ha! Found it!"

"Doctor!" Amy scolded him, throwing an arm out to gesture to me. "She's already got a headache, do you really need to be so loud?"

He chuckled nervously. "Right. Sorry."

"It's fine." I muttered, something about that smile reminding me of someone, though I couldn't figure out who. "You find your watch?"

He nodded with a grin, bounding over to the counter and placing it down. "Yup!"

"You know, they usually come with chains so you don't drop them or… loose them in your pocket." I told him jokingly, before picking up his pocket watch and freezing.

"Oh, I know. I just forget I have it sometimes and it sort of... Jack?"

I jerked my head up at my name and waved his watch at him in shock. "W-Where did you get this?"

He blinked, confused. "It's mine."

"B-But you're not... You're not him. This is Mr. Smith's watch."

Rory took a step forward then. "No, it's his. Always has been."

I shook my head. "No way! I know every inch of this watch! Here."

I handed it to Rory who blinked in confusion as I spoke.

"There's a small scratch on the backside of the watch less than a quarter of an inch away from the winder and about an eighth of an inch long."

Rory went ahead and looked and his eyes widened. "She's right."

"That's right. I've repaired that watch before. There's exactly thirty-one gears and parts in it and the last time it was brought in, it was because the owner had gotten jam in it somehow. He was tall with spiked up brown hair—" I gestured to my moppy head of hair in an upwards motion. "—brown eyes and wearing a brown suit and tie with converses!"

"And he bought a giraffe with a bow tie and paid you _far_ more than you asked for, yes?" The bow tie guy said and I nodded.

"That's right! He—" My mind finally caught up to what he'd said and I gave him my own confused look. "H-How did you..."

"I'm him! I'm Mr. Smith." He smiled, pointing to himself and I immediately felt that headache getting worse.

"N-No, you look nothing like—"

"I regenerated! Same person, different looks and personality." He chirped. "Though my name's not Mr. Smith. I'm actually called the Doctor!"

I brought a hand to my head, reaching for the stool behind me to sit down. "I-I'm going to need one of those in a sec."

"No look! I can prove it! I'll be right back!"

He suddenly dashed out as Amy called after him, but didn't leave the shop and instead turned to me.

"Sorry. He doesn't normally do this. I don't know _what_ he was thinking." She complained, before giving me a worried look. "Are you alright though? You look a bit pale."

I gave her a crooked smile. "Yeah, no. I'm fine. I just got told that Doctor guy is the same person I met a week ago, have a _raging_ headache that only seems to be getting worse, and I still have to go to my flat and figure out how I'm going to pay my rent now that the landlord's turned off the hot water. I'm great!" I focused a little too long on the sounds of the shop then and my smile fell as I ground my knuckles against my temples. "And that _sound_ is wrong! It's been wrong all week and I can't figure out what it is!"

"Sound?" Rory asked, getting smacked upside the back of the head by Amy as she moved over to the counter in front of me.

"I'm _really_ sorry. The Doctor doesn't know what he's talking about and is just excited about coming back here. He's been ranting on and on about this place for the past few days and now that he's here, he's just going a little overboard."

"I'm back!" Said Doctor called out, but I didn't even lift my head as he bounded into the shop. "I found it while I was looking in the... Jack? Is she okay?"

"I told you, Doctor, she's got a headache and you just went and dumped all of that stuff on her? And is that a giraffe?"

I lifted my head at that and stared in shock at the stuffed giraffe the Doctor was holding, getting up off my stool.

"T-That's..."

The Doctor turned and held it out to me, allowing me to take it as he spoke.

"I took good care of it, like you said. Though perhaps you were talking about the watch..."

I looked at the stitching from where I'd fixed it a week ago and couldn't help but stare at it in shock. "But... it looks old."

"Hey now!" He took it back and held it close with a pouting expression. "I took good care of him. He looks good after so many years."

"Y-Years?" I stuttered out. "I sold him to you a week ago!"

"Did you?" He questioned and I groaned, bringing my hand back to my head as I went back behind the counter.

"Now I know what Mr. Stanford meant when he said he hates asking me questions." I grumbled and the Doctor came back over with a worried look.

"Are you sure you're alright, Jack? You really don't look good."

"I'm _fine_." I stressed, looking over the watch again. "Just come back tomorrow and I'll have your watch fixed. It'll probably take another all-nighter, but one more won't kill me."

"Jack, when was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" He asked and I sighed, realizing that I wasn't going to get him to leave anytime soon.

 _Much like Mr. Smith, who wouldn't leave until Mr. Stanford came back from his BINGO game._ "A while. It's fine. I'll get it done."

"Jack, that's not what I'm worried about." He said, looking honestly concerned for my well-being, but I felt fine.

Well, other than the headache and fatigue raging around in my head.

"Jack, will you stop chit chatting and fix something?!" Mr. Stanford called out from the back room and I rolled my eyes. "On it!" I then turned to the Doctor and his companions. "Sorry guys. Gotta work. I have a hot water bill to pay, after all."

"Bye Jack." Amy said, tugging both the Doctor and Rory towards the door. "Hope your headache gets better!"

"Me too." I grumbled once they were gone. "Me too."

* * *

I woke up with a start, having not only had another nightmare of that robot attacking me, but also having realized I'd fallen asleep with the Doctor's pocket watch still half dumped out on the counter.

" _Crap!_ " I cursed, scrambling to remember what I had been doing with the watch. "The Doctor's supposed to pick up this watch in—" I glanced up at the multitude of clocks and paled. "— _half and hour_?!"

I went to put the watch back together, but stopped; knowing that I'd only screw up the delicate system needed to work the watch. Slowly, I took a deep breath and let it out, calming myself down before stretching and getting back to work on it. Thankfully, I managed to fix the problem—he'd gotten some small splinter of wood inside somehow, though what kind of wood was a bright orange, I wouldn't know—and had put the watch back together in just under twenty minutes; giving me ten minutes to spare for a run down to the café for some coffee. _Lord knows I need it._ I mused, popping out my earbuds and frowning at the clocks on the wall when it suddenly hit me.

"Twenty-seven clocks, but twenty- _eight_ different ticking noises." I muttered, looking around for the source, only for the Doctor to appear right in front of me.

"Hello!"

I let out a yelp and scrambled backwards, only to bounce my head off a suit of armor that we had sitting in the corner of the shop. Squatting to the floor and holding my head, I weakly glared at the apologetic Doctor.

"Sorry." He apologized, offering me a hand up as I winced.

"It's fine. I need to start paying more attention to things, though I get the feeling I've told you this before."

He smiled. "You have. Or, well, you told Mr. Smith, anyway."

"Right." I muttered, before turning my gaze back to the clocks.

"What were you so focused on though? You were just staring at that shelf." Rory said, having come up behind the Doctor with Amy.

"It's the sound." I mumbled, but the Doctor heard me.

"Oh! You mean that sound you were talking about last time? You said there was something wrong with it. Did you figure it out?"

I nodded, pointing at the clocks. "There's twenty-seven clocks and each one has a specific sound, unique to it due to how it's made and how the sound resonates inside it."

"Okay, twenty-seven clocks. Special ticking." The Doctor nodded, probably having _no_ idea what I meant by that and Amy spoke up.

"So, what? One of them's broken and isn't ticking right?"

I shook my head. "No. There's twenty- _eight_ ticking sounds, but only twenty-seven clocks."

Rory made a disbelieving expression. "Are you sure you're not just imagining it? Or it's something else in the store?"

I turned to him with a frown. "There's twenty-seven clocks, thirty-two toys and seventeen other items in this store. That's seventy items total. Forty-eight of those make noise. Ten make buzzing, mechanical sounds, six play music, and four sing. Twenty-eight make ticking noises and the one toy that ticks..." I moved over to said toy and showed it to them. "...isn't on. Which leaves twenty-seven clocks ticking, but twenty-eight ticking sounds. And I have worked on every single one of those clocks there on that shelf and know each of them by how they're made and what sound they make. And there's an extra sound."

"You, uh... You have really good ears then." Rory said.

"And a good memory." The Doctor commented, eyeing the clocks as well. "Do you have a log of what has come and gone in here since the sound started?"

I nodded, moving towards the counter. "Sure. Though I can tell you now, most people come here to give us things to fix, not buy things."

I flipped through the log as Amy and Rory came over to help, but quickly lifted my head at the strange buzzing sound that went off. I looked up and spotted the Doctor with some kind of wand, shaking my head before returning to my search.

"Nothing." I muttered, before calling out to him. "Nothing's come or gone since I noticed the sound. The only thing I have marked here is the suit of armor being moved out of the back room and out onto display. Everything's been here though, so I don't know wha—"

I was cut off as a loud screeching rang out through my head and I let out a pained shout as my knees crumbled underneath me and I clung to the counter; and my head. The screeching soon stopped though and the Doctor rushed towards me along with Amy and Rory.

"Are you okay? I didn't know it would do that, but I must say, you've got a rather _big_ problem on your hands." He quickly rambled off as he helped me up.

"Oh darn. Another one?" I joked, though the seriousness on his face had me worried. "Um, how big? Scale of one to ten?"

"Eleven." He said, looking over his shoulder as I looked past him as well only for my eyes to widen in shock. "Because apparently the suit of armor you've stored here is _actually_ an android and it's been scanning your brain. Though for what, I haven't quite figured out. Why don't you ask it?"

He sort of excitedly blurt out the last bit with a smile and my mouth dropped open in disbelief as I was pulled to my feet and tugged away from the advancing suit of armor.

"Oh right! Sure! Cause it'll totally answer me if I say 'Hey, why are you scanning my brain'." I said sarcastically, and the suit stopped marching towards us and tilted it's head to the side.

"You were not complete." It responded and I turned to it, even more confused than before.

"Complete?! Complete for what?!"

"Good, Jack. Keep asking it questions." The Doctor said, fiddling with that wand thing as I gave him a look.

"Of course I'm going to ask it questions! I just found out there's an android sitting in the shop I work at and it's been scanning my brain! I'm not just going to sit back and watch!"

"Little less panicking, if you could." He said and I felt about ready to smack him a new one, if the robot hadn't spoken again.

"It is incomplete. One more part is needed for the repair droid."

"Y-You're kidding. _I'm_ the part?! You're going to use _me_ to make some repair robot!?"

"Oh, but you didn't expect me showing up, I'll bet." The Doctor grinned, tugging me behind him and over to Amy and Rory, who backed me up. "Thank you, Jack. But _you_ , you're familiar. I've seen those kinds of scans done before and the clock trick is familiar too. Who are you?"

The robot remained silent, but I took a step forward.

"Go on, answer him!"

"I am repair droid 257." It said and the Doctor's eyes lit up.

"Oh! Clockworks! I remember you! Last time I dealt with you lot, was back when you were trying to take Madam de Pompadour's mind for your ship. What are you doing back here?"

"I am from another ship. Ion storm caused system failure and repairs must be made. I am the last repair droid. Another is needed. The brain is compatible. She is complete."

It stepped forward, lifting it's arm where a rather large blade snapped out and I immediately began trying to think up something to do, but we were in a toy and clock shop. I didn't have a whole lot to work with. Thankfully, the Doctor was a bit more clever and lifted that wand thing of his before setting it off; making the android shake and clatter along with all the other clocks in the room before a screech rang out and the android slumped over with smoke coming out of the suit of armor it was wearing. The Doctor simply grinned, tossing his wand and catching it again as he tucked it into his pocket.

"Just needed to adjust it to the right frequency and increased the resonating sound within the android and poof! System failure." He then turned to me, a large grin on his face. "How was that?"

I had a hand on my head, staring between him and the android in a panic as my legs shook and suddenly gave out from under me; making him hurry over to catch me.

"Chair!"

Rory brought my stool over and the Doctor lowered me onto it as I tried to get over the shock of what had just happened. The Doctor though, had other ideas and pressed his fingers to my temples. A cooling sensation came over me then, like someone slowly dripping water over my body, before I calmed down and blinked up at him in confusion as he smiled.

"Better?"

"Y-Yeah, um... can someone explain to me—" I shook my head then, pressing a hand to my face. "No, no, never mind. It's been explained, just give me a second to wrap my head around all this."

"Do you want some water or something?" Rory asked and I nodded, remembering that I hadn't had my morning coffee yet.

"Actually, yeah. But could you just grab me a coffee from the café down the street? I-I'll pay." I said, starting to dig through my pockets for some cash, but the Doctor stopped me.

"No, it's alright. I'll take care of it." He said, handing Rory a black card. "Here. Oh! And get me some juice. Preferably an orangey kind. Not apple. I hate apples."

He wrinkled his nose as Rory rolled his eyes and headed out, Amy offering to go with him, and leaving me alone with the Doctor. It wasn't that I didn't want him to be there, but I suddenly realized that he was a big part of the problem. I had no clue who he was. He claimed to be Mr. Smith, but that was impossible and he said something about regenerating too, and by definition it would make some sense. _Oh, who am I kidding?! I don't know him! He's just another customer who_ apparently _stole Mr. Smith's pocket watch and giraffe or bought them from him or something!_ Yet another part of me argued with this because I _did_ see some similarities between him and Mr. Smith. His goofy grin, the look in his eyes, the way he acted. Everything screamed that he was still the same person, but... well, different. Couple that with the android trying to harvest my brain and I was _more_ than just confused.

"Are you alright?"

I jumped, wincing at the reaction as the Doctor gave me a worried look.

"H-Honestly? No. I'm not. I'm already having a rough week. I'm running on maybe an hour of sleep and just found out about an android trying to kill me and that you're apparently the same man I met a week ago. It's not exactly something easy for someone like me to wrap my head around." I looked up, but then noticed the bundle of broken clocks sitting on the shelves behind him, making my stomach churn as I groaned. " _Oh_ , and Mr. Stanford is going to _kill_ me when he sees the clocks. I'll have to work triple over time and I already have no time to do anything anyway."

The Doctor looked back, wincing when he spotted the clocks and hurriedly turned back. "I-I can fix it! I'll help!"

"No, no. I'll figure something out." I said, getting up from the stool and heading over to grab the nearest clock on the shelf before returning to the counter to get started. "I have the rest of today and I guess tomorrow too... so much for my day off." I muttered the last bit under my breath, but he'd heard me and came over with the most apologetic look I'd ever seen.

It was like I kicked a puppy.

"I'm _really_ sorry. I promise, I'll make it up to you."

I let out a half-hearted chuckle. "You just saved me from some robot trying to harvest my brain. I think you've _already_ made it up to me."

He shook his head though, adamant about making it up to me, it seemed. "No, I mean it. I can't just leave you like this after the mess I made."

He grabbed a clock as well and moved to the counter and I raised a brow.

"Uh, you sure about that? You brought in your pocket watch for _me_ to fix, after all. And unless your really good at fixing things, I don't think—"

He cut me off with a grin. "Oh, I'm great at fixing things. I only brought my watch in, well..." He became a bit sheepish then. "Because I wanted to see you again."

I blinked in surprise, having not expected that response from him, or anyone for that matter.

"See me?"

He nodded excitedly.

"You brought in your pocket watch, that _you_ could've fixed yourself, because you wanted to see _me_?"

"Mmhm." He hummed, beginning to work on the clock he had as I did the same, but with furrowed brows.

We worked in silence for a minute or so, before I lifted my head again in disbelief.

"Why would you come back to see me? I only spoke with Mr. Sm— _you_ for a little while and it's not like I did anything special."

His head snapped up so fast I thought he might've gotten whiplash.

"Didn't do anything special?! You _fix_ things for a living! You take things people have abandoned and make something _new_ out of them! You demanded answers from an android trying to harvest your mind! You realized something was wrong by _listening_ to _clocks_! And never in my _entire_ life have I met anyone who wasn't special. And _you_ , Jackie Whyte, are very, _very_ special."

I don't know why, but those words cut through me like knives. The way he looked at me, with such conviction, sent shivers down my spine and made my stomach twist into knots as my throat tightened with the threat of oncoming tears. Never before had anyone ever said I was special. That I was important or loved. And this man, who I had only just met a week ago—and only for a few hours—had not only saved my life, but just gave me the _highest_ compliment I have ever received. Not only that, but he'd remembered me. If what he was saying was true, then he hadn't seen me for years. _And_ he'd practically become an entirely different person, but he still remembered me and even came back just to see me when he didn't have to. He could've been like the hundreds of other people that I met and just have forgotten about me and moved on, but he came back for _me_. To see _me_. He remembered Jack from the clock fixing shop and thought she was special enough to come back and see again. And if he hadn't I could very well be dead with my mind trapped inside some repair droid. But I was here, alive, and listening to some strange man I barely knew tell me that I was special to him, and I felt like my heart was being constricted by how much those simple words meant to me.

"T-Thank you." I croaked out, clearing my throat and quickly shifting my gaze back to the clock I was working on to try and hide how much his words effected me. "I-I, um... Nobody's ever said that before, so..."

I allowed my voice to trail off as heat traveled up to the tips of my ears in a sudden bout of embarrassment, when the bell over the door chimed and Amy and Rory returned.

"We're back!" Amy chirped, waving from behind Rory, who looked at the Doctor and I and gave us a look.

"Are we, uh, interrupting something? It's a bit... tense."

The Doctor just grinned. "Nope! We were just talking. Did you get my juice?"

Rory rolled his eyes, passing him a bottle of orange juice. "Yes, I got your juice." He then came over to me and set a coffee cup down on the counter. "Here's yours, Jack. Got black, but if you need sugar or cream or anything, I can head back and—"

"No, that's okay." I said with a small smile. "I take it black."

He nodded and moved back over to Amy as they looked through some of the things in the shop and the Doctor and I worked on the clocks. It was a while before anyone said anything though, and Amy was the first to speak up.

"So, you doing okay now?"

I nodded, grabbing another clock from off the shelf after I replaced the last one. "Yeah. For now, anyway. I mean, the whole android thing doesn't make much sense, but I suppose it wouldn't be the first time something strange has happened in England, anyway."

"Huh, you take this kind of thing pretty well." She hummed and I shrugged, moving this clock over to the counter to work on.

"I guess. Had my panic attack, sorted my thoughts, moved on. Can't let every strange thing drag me down, right?" I smiled a bit and she smiled back, grabbing another stool that I'd pulled out from the back room and leaning against her elbows on the counter beside the Doctor; who was wearing some glasses as he worked on another clock.

"Got any family? Parents, siblings, cousins, things like that?"

I felt a sharp pang in my heart, but kept my smile on, hiding it for now. "Nah, I'm an orphan kid. Grew up in the system."

Her expression slipped into a sympathetic one. "Oh, sorry."

"Doesn't bother me." I shrugged, hiding the fact that it kind of did. "Growing up in the system didn't stop me. Graduated high school two years early, actually, and I'm taking a couple of college engineering courses online. Add that on top of two jobs and a decent apartment, and I think I'm doing alright."

" _Alright_? I couldn't do that even if I tried!" She exclaimed and I blinked up at her in confusion.

"It's not that hard. I mean, I don't get a whole lot of time to myself... maybe a few hours on Sunday..." I muttered, before shaking my head out of that thought. "It's just a matter of knowing how to organize your time."

"Do you have friends or anything that you hang out with?" She questioned innocently, though I felt another ache spread through my chest.

I shook my head. "Most people don't care for me much. That and it's hard to find time to socialize. Like I said, I only get a few hours a week to myself. Not much time to go around making friends."

"We can be your friends!" The Doctor suddenly chirped, startling me and making me drop my screwdriver.

He caught sight of the action and watched me in worry as I bent down to pick up the fallen tool.

"You... don't want to be friends with us?" He asked, sounding hurt and I quickly shook my head, waving my hands about in a panic.

"N-No! It's not that. It's just..." I looked at them warily. "Aren't you guys going to go? You only came by here as a passing fancy, didn't you?"

"Do you want us to go?" He asked, though I felt as though there was a deeper meaning behind the question.

Like he was asking more than one question at once. _Do you want us to leave you? Do you want to be alone again? Would you rather we left and never come back?_ And I didn't. I didn't want them to leave me. I'd been left behind by many people in my life, to the point where I didn't want to get involved with people again. I never got too close. Sure, I smiled and acted friendly, but that was what society wanted. What did I want? _I-I don't want them to leave._ My mind supplied. _They're the first people who've accepted me... I-I don't..._

"If you guys have somewhere you need to be, I-I'm not going to get in the way of that." I said, ignoring what I'd really been thinking. "I've got my jobs, school, and someone's got to fix these clocks." I forced a smile on my face, seeing their hesitation. "You guys can come visit or something! I've got stuff to keep me busy for ages and I'm sure you've all got better things to do than sit around and chat with me all day. So I don't mind."

"Doctor..." Rory piped in then, turning our attention to him. "We _do_ need to head back."

"Right... No, you're right." He muttered, shaking his head before giving me a smile; looking a little forced. "Sorry, Jack, we should go."

"It's fine. Goodbye, Doctor." I said with a wave as he and the other two walked out with their own waves.

Once they were out of sight of the store window though, I felt my chest tighten and I dropped my hand as I turned my head back to the busted clock before me. I struggled to focus on it and soon my vision blurred, making me frustrated as I muttered a curse under my breath and tried to blink away the fog. Thing was, it wasn't just my vision going foggy. Tears had begun to slip down my face and dripped onto the counter and I stared at the water droplets in shock. I hadn't cried in _years_. So long, in fact, that just the action of doing so had me panicking slightly, trying to figure out what was going on and why my body was doing this. _S-Stop it. Stop doing this. W-Why am I crying? I barely knew them. I didn't have time to get attached, s-so why?_ I questioned as my sniffling grew louder and turned into sobs, my hands wiping furiously at my face in a vain attempt to stop the torrent of water pouring from my eyes. But I knew why I was crying. I was lonely, desperately wanting someone— _anyone—_ to show me even the smallest amount of kindness, and the Doctor had done so much more than that within a few hours! He's saved my life, said I was special, told me I was brilliant when all my life I'd been told the exact opposite. He didn't know that, of course, but almost nobody did.

No one knew that I could've skipped high school entirely. No one knew that my IQ was far past 100 and that I had an excellent memory, coupled with astounding senses. No one knew that I'd tried all my life to make friends only to have them reject me one by one. No one knew that I traveled the world in search of my birth parents, only to find the exact opposite of what I wanted. No one knew I'd thought of suicide. Nobody knew anything about me and only saw me as the freak, the smart alack, the loser with a big mouth and no one to care about her; the clumsy trouble maker who can't mind her own business and just leave everyone alone. And now, I'd let the one person—the _three_ people—who were able to see past that, slip through my fingers. And it crushed me.

"Jack, sorry to pop back in again, I forgot—"

I jolted, becoming even more frantic to wipe my eyes and hide the fact that I had just been crying as the Doctor reentered the shop.

"S-Sorry." I stuttered out, turning away from him and pretending to be looking for a part on the shelves behind me. "You said you forgot something?"

"Yeah, my giraffe." He said, but I could tell by his tone that he was suspicious. "Jack, are you crying?"

"N-No." I said, flinching when my voice cracked, giving me away. "Just something in my eye is all. It's not like I was u-upset or anything about you guys leaving. I just..."

I trialed off, mentally cursing my big mouth quietly under my breath as I heard the Doctor approach.

"Jack? It's alright. You can tell me."

I hesitated, opening and closing my mouth as I tried desperately to come up with some excuse, before I finally put on a forced smile and waved it off.

"N-No, it's alright. It's nothing. Honest. Just dust in my eye, is all. S-Sorry." I reached over and passed him his forgotten giraffe, forcing myself to calm down and shove everything back into that dark hole in the back of my mind. "Here."

He took it slowly, eyeing me in suspicion as he tucked it back into his coat somehow, before he suddenly grinned and started to head off with a wave. I waved back, my smile falling as I watched him go and disappear around the corner once more. Tears clogged my throat once more, but I swallowed past the feeling and went back to the clock I was working on, only for the door to slam open with a loud chime startling me as the Doctor rushed back into the room.

"I thought about it, Jack. And I promised I'd make it up to you and I know _exactly_ what I can do!" He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out from behind the counter, dragging me towards the door.

"W-What? What are you doing? I-I have work!"

"Mr. Stanford!" The Doctor called out. "I'm borrowing your assistant! We'll be back, though I'm not sure when!"

"What?! Doctor, that doesn't—" I was cut off by the loud bell over the door as he pulled me out of the shop and down the street a ways. "Doctor, where are we going?!"

"On an adventure!" He beamed, pulling me to a familiar blue police box and digging through his pockets. "You see, I've thought about it. We needed to go and you didn't want us to leave, so why not bring you with us?"

He smiled at me, but I immediately paled.

"H-How did you know I didn't want you to leave?"

He tilted his head with a raised brow. "Other than you saying you didn't want us to leave a minute ago?"

I lowered my head and fidgeted in embarrassment, before the Doctor tilted my head back up and gave me a look that made my chest ache.

"Jack, I have seen eyes like yours before. Old, tired, lonely eyes that despite all the smiles you may make, tell the truth of what you're really feeling. And I don't know what made you feel this way, but I won't let it happen again. I won't _ever_ let you feel alone again."

He turned around then, pulling a key out of his pocket as he unlocked the blue box, but I reached out and grabbed his coat, stopping him.

"W-What about Amy and Rory?"

He turned to me in surprise, before grinning once more. "Oh, they'll be fine with it. More than fine, I'd say. Amy's been complaining about needing another woman on board. Voilà!" He pushed open the doors and waved a hand into the box. "Jack, welcome aboard the Tardis!"

My mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of the interior, myself taking a step into the box before the Doctor, before abruptly rushing out the door and rushing around it. _But that's... impossible!_

"So? What do you think?" The Doctor asked, the moment I reentered the box.

"I-I don't... It's..." I turned to him with wide eyes. "How'd you get the outside wrapped around the inside?!"

He blinked, surprised. "Well, that's a first. Most just say 'It's bigger on the inside!' and we leave it at that."

"But that's the obvious bit!" I said, rushing around and looking all over the large console room, brushing a hand over the controls only for the Doctor to quickly snatch my hand away from it.

"Ah! Don't touch the controls. Very delicate instrument. One wrong move and you'll throw us into a black hole."

I opened my mouth to respond, only then realizing the lack of distance between us, when Amy's voice drifted down to us.

"Doctor? Did you get your giraffe back so we can lea—Oh... Am I interrupting something?" She asked, smirking down at us from the upper levels and I immediately turned a bright cherry red as the Doctor sputtered out a response.

"Amy! Ah, n-no! No! Not interrupting anything! Not at all!" He said, quickly dropping my hand and taking a step back. "I was just explaining how delicate the Tardis was!"

"Uh-huh. Sure you were." Amy hummed, obviously not believing him as Rory came out and gave me an odd look.

"Huh? Why's Jack here? N-Not that that's a bad thing! I just thought we were, you know... leaving?"

"We are! And she's coming with us!" The Doctor beamed, hugging my shoulders with one arm as I warily looked up at the couple.

"Um, I hope you don't mind..."

Amy immediately shook her hands. "Oh no! It's fine. Totally. Wouldn't mind having another woman on board." She smiled and I hesitantly smiled back, still not too sure about this.


End file.
